notes

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===== The kitchen hob is singing to me =====


Most of the time I'm so focused on my own thoughts, the physical space I'm in fades almost completely away. Right now though I’m in the Kitchen waiting for the kettle to boil and THE MATERIALS OF THIS SPACE ARE SINGING with MY BODY. I’m experiencing this kitchen as 
a huge, complex landscape. Imagining the thoughts and feelings teeming around my empty Kit-Kat mug, like a giant watching a colony of seabirds around a cliff, some larger thoughts glide around the walls, a murmeration turns itself inside out on its way to the fridge, some settling on my shoulder, some following me as I move to the sink. Trails of thoughts build mid air in many directions finding their own paths like foraging ants through the turbulence of emotional energies formed between our human bodies and the worktops, hob, dirty dishes, cupboards and baby snacks encrusted on the glittery tiled floor.

Feeling an emotional resonance through my body, with the memories of the materials in the space. Rooms don't have any awareness of the memories that inhabit them any more than coral reefs know of the fish that they provide places to hide, feed and swim around.